There They Go, Again!

Every now and then, an alleged mobster gets bored and amuses himself by calling in a tip to the FBI as to the whereabouts of Jimmy Hoffa. Then, out come the bulldozers and jackhammers and, let the games begin. This time, they're in Detroit and the "mobster" is probably laughing up his sleeve while he watches the furious activity from a hotel room or office overlooking the site. July 30 will be the 38th anniversary of the night  he was last seen in the parking lot of a Detroit restaurant, allegedly waiting to meet with a couple of Mafia bosses. 

 What do they think they will find? DNA? So what?  A suicide note?  A fake confession - "I, Joey Three Fingers Burelli confess that I hit Jimmy over the head with a shovel and buried him in a shallow grave in this field, like Don Corleone told me to?  By now, old Jimmy is a hank of hair, a pile of bones and an unsavory memory. The FBI has searched longer and harder even than the Hoffa family, who gave up a long time ago, specifically in 1982, when he was declared legally dead and they inherited his estate.

Isn't this all just a bit silly?  It has become an expensive obsession with the FBI.  Why doesn't somebody invent a board game called "What Became of Jimmy?"  All the agents who think they just have to know where Hoffa is can get together on a designated game night and play the game until the urge goes away.

My advice to the FBI?  Stop. Just stop looking. As Judge Judy would say, "Put a period and move on."  Everybody else has.

Stay tuned.